


The Virtue of Sin

by DefiantDreams



Series: Alternate Universe Challenge [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Ballet, Dark, M/M, Manipulation, religious themes and references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-11-22 23:40:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11390835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefiantDreams/pseuds/DefiantDreams
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri is meant for something bigger.When the 7 Deadly Sins appear in his home and offer to help him reach his dreams and get the man he's in love with, Yuuri can't afford to say no. Saying yes turns out to be more pricey than he could even imagine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> it's 3 AM and im posting a demon fic >.> pls pray for me
> 
> anyway, for my AU challenge. D for Demon ;) This gets dark-ish, but not that dark? Check end notes if u wanna know who the 7 deadly sins are.
> 
> based off this [prompt](http://writing-prompt-s.tumblr.com/post/162311847125/a-depressed-guy-moves-into-a-haunted-house-with-7) on tumblr

He opens the door and freezes at the sight of a group of seven in his living room.

"Hello," one of them says. "Will you let us help you?"

"Who are you?" Yuuri demands, his hands shaking and his heartbeat racing. A cold sweat rushes over him and Yuuri swallows down the bile that threatens to come out. Each and every nerve of his is singing, ready to either fight or run but Yuuri feels like a deer caught in the headlights, caught in the stares of their dark eyes.

They look at each other, a silent conversation taking place that Yuuri knows he's not privy to. Finally, the one with dark hair and a undercut with a tattoo curling around his bicep, speaks up.

"You humans call us demons," he says, hand on his hip and shoulders back in a sort of confidence that Yuuri only wishes he has.

“What?” he breathes. There’s ice in his veins and his heart stutters in a grip of fear.

“Hey, how about you sit down?” a voice says beside him and Yuuri jolts. He looks down to his side at a boy who looks no older than 17, his sweet features and the dusting of freckles on his cheeks somehow off-putting. “Don’t you want to take a rest, Yuuri?”

Yuuri nods slowly, because he _is_ rather tired, and it’s been a long day. He can afford to take a break. He lets the smaller man lead him to the couch and sinks down, closing his eyes for the moment of bliss that it gives him.

He opens his eyes to find them staring at him, various expressions on their faces that makes him feel uneasy. There’s an odd sort of hunger in their gazes, a kind that Yuuri isn’t familiar with.

He licks his lips, trying to find the right question.

“Demons?” he finally asks, already dreading their answer.

“Yes. You may know us as the seven deadly sins,” the woman in the group answers him. She has a bottle of alcohol in her hands, the scent of sake strong even from where Yuuri is standing. She would be beautiful, if her eyes weren’t a depthless black and if the horns peeking from her long brown hair weren’t so apparent.

Yuuri stares at them, one by one, as they introduce themselves in order.

Pride, Envy, Lust, Wrath, Greed, Sloth and Gluttony.

And they’re offering to help him.

“You’ll be famous,” Greed tells him, his apathetic tone offset only by the glint of want in his eyes. Greed is a Korean man with a serious face and serious eyes that don’t manage to hide the calculating shine beneath it.

With carefully chosen words, Greed outlines the future of his so far unimpressive career in the world of ballet and Yuuri _wants_. He craves and desires success so deeply. One of the things Yuuri hates is losing, and he’s so _tired_ of losing.

He’s drawn out of his thoughts by a touch from Lust and he turns his head slightly to meet vibrant green eyes. Lust is possibly one of the most attractive men Yuuri has ever met, with his perfect body and his handsome features. Lust speaks with an ever present teasing tone, an intoxicating seduction pouring out of his every touch.

“You can have men and women falling at your feet,” Lust purrs and Yuuri has never cared much for that, but he has a sudden image of the man he’s been reaching out for, falling for Yuuri. It’s a crazy idea, but Yuuri can’t help but entertain it and imagine silver hair and blue eyes wanting him.

He bites his lip and looks down at his hands. He’s actually considering it. He can’t believe himself. He can’t believe that he’s actually considering letting demons help him.

But… Yuuri knows he’s not good enough, not talented enough, not hot enough and _never enough_. He will never reach his dreams on his own capabilities. But if he has a little help, who will ever know? No one needs to know.

They can’t be worse than the demons in his own mind. They can’t be worse than the demons of his anxiety and of his own creation.

"Look, just let us help you," Wrath snaps in irritation, his deceptive fairy-like features twisting into something ugly, a crude imitation of his youthful face.

"We're the best at what we do," Pride assures him, a confident smirk on his lips.

Yuuri meets each of their black, white-less eyes one by one, searching and seeking for any hint of foul play or trickery. His mouth is dry and his heartbeat is loud in his own ears but--

"Will you let us help you?"

"Yes."

(This is Yuuri's mistake: Nothing ever comes for free. He never asked what he had to give up in return.)

\---

At first, Yuuri doesn’t understand how or where the Sins could help him. The moment Yuuri agreed to their help, all seven of them had disappeared without a trace. Yuuri could almost convince himself he was dreaming if it weren’t for the smell of sulfur in his living room.

The next time he sees one of Them, it’s after a week of draining rehearsals. Rehearsals where Yuuri can’t quite get his head together. Rehearsals where he messes up, over and over until it feels like a nightmare.

He should have expected Them.

"We might have to give the role to Michele."

Yuuri wilts, and he grits his teeth, but he doesn't say anything. It's fine. He doesn't deserve it anyway. After how bad he’s been performing recently, he shouldn't have expected anything less.

"Wow, after how hard you worked, you're just going to let him treat you like that?" Wrath grumbles. Yuuri jolts, and he stares, wide eyed at the demon who is suddenly standing behind Celestino. He wasn't there before and Yuuri doesn't know how long he's been there. There's nothing but disdain in his face and Yuuri's stomach twists in itself.

"Yuuri," Celestino calls out and Yuuri's gaze slides from Wrath to him. Does Celestino not see him? Can he not hear what Wrath is saying?

"Yes?" He asks weakly and tries to paste on a smile.

"I was just asking what you thought of being an understudy for a while," Celestino says gently and something in Yuuri's chest squeezes.

"Aren't you angry?" Wrath taunts from behind Celestino, a delicate eyebrow raised. Yuuri is. He _is_ angry, but he has no right to be.

Wrath scowls. "Don't let him treat you like this. Fucking stand up for yourself, you spineless pig."

"No," Yuuri says, and he realizes a little too late that he said that out loud.

"No?" Celestino says in surprise and Yuuri's face reddens. He opens his mouth and then closes it, clutching helplessly at the hem of his shirt.

"Tell him you deserve that role. Fight him.“ Wrath crosses his arms and despite his short stature, he looks menacing. A current of fear shoots through Yuuri.

"I...." Yuuri hesitates, and he looks away from Wrath's burning gaze. "I understand, Celestino."

Wrath's delicate features twist into a snarl, eyes bleeding into a pure black and in a blink of an eye, he's standing right in front of Yuuri, blocking his view of Celestino. "You idiot."

Celestino dismisses him and Yuuri walks out of his office, legs shaky. Wrath follows him, blonde hair flying back as he stalks ahead of Yuuri. A hint of horns peek from his fae-like locks and Yuuri's breath hitches in delayed fear.

"What the fuck?" Wrath snaps and Yuuri looks away. "You could have fought to kept your role instead of rolling over and letting him step on you."

"I don't deserve it," Yuuri grits out as he walks down the hallway. Wrath keeps pace with him easily, long and graceful strides making up for how much shorter he is.

Wrath snorts and gives him a condescending look, a loud tsk passing through his lips. Yuuri ignores him, face burning in shame and embarrassment at how far he has fallen.

"You really believe that," Wrath muses. Yuuri resists the urge to snap at the demon. He doesn't understand why, but just being in Wrath's presence makes his temper shorter, makes him so angry at everything. Yuuri can't control himself.

"Change of plans," Wrath mutters in irritation. "You need Pride first."

Pride, after all, is the root of all sin.

—

“There’s a certain way that those with confidence hold themselves,” Pride tells him, grinning slightly. Yuuri nods slowly as he eyes Pride warily. Pride is a classically handsome man with blue eyes and a lean, muscled body. Yuuri wouldn’t say that it's as sculpted or as defined as Lust’s, but it’s a nice body nonetheless. He doesn’t speak to Pride--he’s in public and somehow, the demons appear only to him. That doesn't stop Pride from speaking to him though. 

From the corner of his eye, he sees someone enter a room. Everyone turns to look, Yuuri included, and his breath catches once he sees who it is.

Viktor Nikiforov.

Yuuri still isn’t quite sure what Viktor does, but his influence and his power in the circle of dance is undeniable. He has fingers in a lot of pies, and money and fame seem to follow him. It’s a common saying in the circles that they run in, that if you’re friends with Nikiforov, you’re friends with everyone.

Viktor Nikiforov is a petty man, and his attention is fleeting, but everyone knows his penchant for pretty things. Everyone knows that his attention means good things for you.

But that’s not why Viktor catches Yuuri’s eye.

Viktor Nikiforov is the most beautiful man Yuuri has ever seen. If Yuuri were to describe him, he’d start by telling you that he’s literally God’s gift to mankind. Yuuri would then tell you that he’d say it would be unfair someone could be this perfect, but Yuuri was half in love with him so it didn’t matter.

Viktor Nikiforov is kind and gentle to Yuuri, with an angelic, heart-shaped smile that makes Yuuri want to fall at his feet and give him the reverence he deserves. Viktor shows him pictures of his dog, laughs like he has nothing better to do, and the Viktor Yuuri knows is so different from the way Viktor presents himself to the public.

“Watch how he holds himself,” Pride mutters into his ear and Yuuri just barely stops himself from jumping. He flushes a dark red as he just barely holds on to his admittance that Pride didn’t need to tell him to watch, Yuuri was already watching Viktor in the first place.

Yuuri watches from afar as people sidle up to Viktor, all flattery and empty words. Viktor responds to them, easy as anything, soaking up their attention with charming smiles and smooth words.

“Shoulders back, head up, hands open, stay still,” Pride lists off and Yuuri finds his eyes tracing Viktor’s shoulders for _very_ different reasons than Pride probably intended.

“I don’t understand why I need to do this,” Yuuri says quietly and Pride huffs. Yuuri sees Pride relax, becoming smaller and less of a beacon of confidence and hot air. He blinks in surprise and Pride sends him a small, withdrawn smile. In that moment, he looks more human than demon.

“Did you know that studies show that faking confident body language can lead to actual confidence?”

Yuuri opens his mouth soundlessly, then shuts it. Pride seems to see something in his face because suddenly, all the vulnerability is gone. The annoyingly smug smirk is back on his face.

Pride laughs boisterously and sends him a wink. “So come on. Let’s practice, Yuuri.”

Yuuri gives Viktor one last longing look before he turns away to follow Pride.

 

 

  
“I feel stupid, I can’t do this,” Yuuri mutters. Pride makes an annoyed sound and Yuuri looks up at the mirror to meet his eyes.

“You can, Yuuri,” Pride sighs, an impatient ring to his words. “You just have to believe in yourself.” The way he says it is vaguely mocking, and Yuuri wonders if he should be offended. “You doubt yourself too much.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri agrees drily, “It’s the anxiety, thanks.”

“Medication and therapy sessions are always an option. If you’re anxiety is debilitating and holding you back from your full potential, you should consider it,” Pride suggests. Yuuri’s eyebrows raise in surprise and Pride’s lips quirk.

“It’s expensive, it’s not really possible,” Yuuri mutters and shakes his head as he breaks eye contact. “Besides, it’s not that bad. I’m fine.”

Pride’s lips purse. Neither of them mention that it’s not really fine at all.

Yuuri looks away and shoves his things back into his gym bag. If he was looking, he would have seen the speculative look that Pride was sending him. Maybe he would have been worried about it even.

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri looks up to see someone opening the locker room door.

“Oh, hi Minami,” he greets tiredly and Minami smiles back, but there’s something off in his smile. Minami isn’t even looking at him, he’s looking at—

Yuuri freezes before he slowly turns towards Pride. His heart clenches, and then he almost lets out a sigh of relief when he sees Pride is gone. It’s like Pride was never even there.

He looks back at Minami, and the usual sweet smile is back on his face. “I was wondering where you were, senpai!” Minami gushes as he bounces over to Yuuri.

Yuuri smiles back awkwardly, already thinking of ways to escape Minami and his exuberance. He knows Minami adores him even without Phichit mentioning it every chance he’s got. Minami constantly lauds and exalts how humble Yuuri is, and how down to earth he is despite all the fame and the talent he has.

Yuuri thinks it’s unfounded. He can’t downplay talent that he doesn’t have. He’s just a dime a dozen danseur.

 

 

When Pride brings him to a building the next day, all Yuuri can do is stare once he realizes where he is.

“H-How—?” He stutters and Pride tsks at him before he shrugs coolly, a pleased, smug smile on his lips. Yuuri feels like he should be worried.

“Don’t ask questions,” Pride tells him and Yuuri presses his lips together in a thin line.

Yuuri gets through the session in a haze, barely believing he’s actually there.

At the end, Yuuri brings up the question that’s been bothering him the whole hour.

“I’m just wondering about the uh, payment,” Yuuri says awkwardly and Dr. Collins gives him a side eye. He tilts his head and regards Yuuri with a kind smile.

“It’s already been taken care of. Don’t worry, Mr. Katsuki.”

“By who?” Yuuri blurts out before he can even think of it.

Dr. Collin’s face turns carefully blank and Yuuri draws back instinctively. The other man looks away as he rearranges the papers in front of him, blatantly stalling.

When he finally looks up to meet Yuuri’s eyes, the smile is back on his face. The sides of his eyes crease, and the more Yuuri looks at him, the more resigned his smile looks. 

“Let’s just say I owed an favor.”

That night, Yuuri holds a bottle of pills in his hands.

It’s free, but Yuuri can’t help but wonder what it’s going to cost him in the future.

He tucks it away without taking one. Out of sight, out of mind.

—

“So,” Yuuko says hesitantly and Yuuri looks up, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. Yuuko smiles at him gently and touches his hair, brushing it back softly. Yuuri closes his eyes and lets her. It’s soothing, and Yuuri falls into the back and forth motions until Yuuko pulls her hand away and Yuuri opens his eyes. They look at each other silently and Yuuri tries to smile at her. It comes out strained and Yuuri drops it immediately.

“I heard about Mickey,” Yuuko says gently and Yuuri sighs before he drops his head. Yuuko pulls up the chair beside him and squeezes his shoulder. Yuuri clenches his eyes shut, burying his head deeper in his arms as he tries to stave off the tears.

“It’s okay,” Yuuko murmurs. “You’re both so talented. Mickey’s worked hard for this too. Just be happy for him, yeah?”

“I know. He deserves it.” He doesn’t need her to tell him that. He changes the topic to something more neutral, something that doesn't remind him of his lost lead role.

Yuuko and him part ways after a quiet coffee date, and when Yuuri gets home, what Yuuko had said is all he can think about.

Michele is so much better than him. More handsome. A better dancer. More fit. He deserves the role. Yuuri does not.

He brings all of these thoughts into morning rehearsals.

Yuuri walks into the studio, feeling on edge despite there being nothing wrong. He doesn’t know if he’s imagining all the eyes he can feel watching his every move, waiting for him to make a mistake as per usual. He feels uneasy and restless, a constant sense of dread hovering over him and Yuuri doesn’t know if there’s any substance for it or if it’s just his mind working against him once more.

He throws himself into practice, his mind still full with nervous thoughts. It’s only after a half an hour of warm ups at the barre that Yuuri finally settles into his skin, muscles relaxing into the familiar and what he knows.

Things go as well as they can, as well as it ever has, until Celestino calls for a run through. Yuuri gets ready to practice his solo, and then—and then he realizes that he’s just an understudy for now.

Celestino gives him a regretful glance, but it’s enough to get Yuuri’s hackles up. The blatant pity in Celestino’s eyes makes his skin prickle and he feels like his nerves are raw and exposed and that everyone must see how weak Yuuri is now. Yuuri clenches his fists in his laps, and there’s nothing for him to do but watch Michele dance Yuuri’s dance.

“Imagine,” he hears, right into his ear. Yuuri stiffens, but he doesn’t make a sound. He turns his head to the side, a small tilt that would go unnoticed by anyone not watching him too closely.

He makes eye contact with Envy. If it weren’t for the dark makeup Envy had on, Yuuri might have described Envy as handsome. Envy is only a bit taller than him, and he speaks with the same accent and he has the same eyes as Viktor. (It’s not nearly as attractive on him though, if you ask Yuuri.)

“You’re the one who deserves to be there,” Envy tells him quietly, and Yuuri’s eyes slide back towards Michelle. “Don’t you wish you were the one there? Don’t you want what he has?”

Yuuri does.

“It’s so tiring to only be second best,” Envy sighs dramatically. “Never quite enough for anyone.”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Yuuri says quietly and tries to shrug off the clench in his stomach. “Michele is a great dancer, he deserves to be there.” It pains Yuuri just to say it.

“You can ask for your role back. Celestino will give it you if you just ask. He thinks you’re the best danseur here, and the only reason he doesn’t trust you is because you’re so inconsistent. You let your mind be bigger than you.”

There’s a million things that Yuuri can say in reply to Envy but he bites it down. Just be happy for him, Yuuko had said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Yuuri finally murmurs back and Envy makes a face.

A hush passes over the room, and Yuuri doesn’t look up. He doesn’t need to, he knows who it is. Only one person can bring a room to silence with his mere presence, and it’s Viktor Nikiforov.

Yuuri tries to make himself smaller. The past few times they had practiced this dance, Yuuri had been the one in front, and Viktor had always watched him. Now, Viktor’s probably noticed that Yuuri isn’t there and Yuuri doesn’t know what he’s thinking. Just the thought of Viktor being disappointed in him makes his hands clammy.

Yuuri sees the exact moment Viktor notices who’s dancing. Viktor turns his head, gaze seeking over the dancers sitting down stretching or otherwise occupied and his eyes meet Yuuri’s. Yuuri swallows and looks away, feeling troubled at the expression of confusion on Viktor’s face.

He tries to watch Michelle, but just seeing the familiar movements that his own body knows better than anyone makes something inside of him ache. It’s like even his own heart knows that he should be the one up there.

“Viktor looks impressed,” Envy croons and Yuuri’s head snaps up, eyes narrowed and his heart clenching painfully in his chest.

Viktor is watching Michele intently, gaze fixed on the other dancer and Yuuri grits his teeth. He watches Viktor and takes note of the calculating, surprised look on the other man’s face.

The song eventually softens, coming to an end, and not once does Viktor turn his head to look at him once more. Celestino goes up to Michele--praising him, if Yuuri’s reading his expression correctly. Viktor claps slowly.

Yuuri’s gut churns, and he can’t look away. He could be the one up in front. He could be the one Celestino is congratulating for a job well done. He could be the one Viktor is looking at in that way.

Yuuri doesn’t want Viktor to look at anyone else.

“Yuuri!” Celestino calls out and Yuuri straightens up. Celestino motions for him to go up in front and Yuuri stands up. He doesn’t feel in control of his own body.

He walks towards the front, breath oddly even but muscles tight with tension. When he passes by Viktor who’s still standing apart from them and just watching, Yuuri inclines his head.

Viktor smiles at him and Yuuri’s eyes narrow. He turns towards Viktor and leans in, gripping tight on Viktor’s (probably expensive) tie.

Viktor’s eyes widen, his pupils blowing open and a part of Yuuri feels insanely pleased just at that. _That’s right_ , he thinks. No one else deserves to be looked at in that way but him.

“Don’t you ever take your eyes off me.”

Viktor’s lips part and Yuuri turns on his heel, making his way towards Celestino.

The bottle of pills that Pride had helped him obtain still lies in the back of his drawer. Yuuri doesn’t know why he hasn’t taken them. Maybe because he’ll feel like he doesn’t owe Them if he doesn’t take them. So far, it’s the only tangible thing that They’ve given him, but the nagging feeling that he’s deep in Their debt is still there.

Yuuri shakes off the intrusive thoughts and takes position, body taut and poised in perfect form. He meets Viktor’s gaze, and for that moment in time, stretching out for what seems like a lifetime, it’s only Viktor and Yuuri inside the studio.

The music starts, and Yuuri dances.

His skin is heated in a way it’s never been before, and he’s painfully aware of everyone’s eyes on him. He thinks he sees a glimpse of Pride, of Envy, of Greed in the corner of his eye, but once he finishes his pirouettes, they’re gone.

Viktor though… Viktor stays. He stays, and not once during Yuuri’s dance does Viktor look away.

Yuuri doesn’t care about anyone else but him. No one else matters in that moment. Not Celestino, not Michele, not all the other dancers, and not even Yuuri’s own doubts screaming at him.

All he knows is the heavenly blue of Viktor’s eyes.

But, like everything, his dance must end. Before Yuuri knows it, he’s in the final pose of his dance, stretched and tired.

“That was great, Yuuri!” Celestino praises proudly and Yuuri drops out of the final pose, thighs twinging a bit. He nods and keeps his back straight and shoulders back, posture impeccable.

Yuuri feels Viktor’s eyes on the back of his head, but he doesn’t turn. Instead, he meets the eyes of the Sins standing behind Celestino, all of them watching him speculatively. Envy smiles a crooked smile at him, and claps slowly. Pride grins at him and Yuuri allows himself to smile back. For the first time this whole shitty week, he’s proud of himself and proud of his own performance.

But he still doesn’t know if it’s enough. Their debut performance was drawing nearer and nearer, and the next dress rehearsal was even closer. Yuuri only had a week to get back his lead role and leave his assignment as understudy.

He shakes his head slightly and walks towards his bag. He bends down and pulls out his water bottle before he takes a long sip. He exhales a short huff of breath in an effort to clear his mind, eyes slipping closed. _Fuck_. He wants his role back. He can’t deny it to himself anymore.

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri stills, his face turning red. He coughs slightly and wipes his mouth before he looks up to meet Viktor’s gaze. “Viktor.”

“You danced beautifully, as always,” Viktor gushes, his eyes sparkling in adoration and Yuuri looks away in embarrassment. He rubs the back of his neck and Viktor smiles at him fondly before he extends a hand towards Yuuri.

Yuuri takes it and Viktor pulls him up easily, strength evident in his grip and Yuuri feels himself go hot at the knowledge that Viktor can lead him around easily. Yuuri finds himself standing close to Viktor, less than a foot distance keeping them apart and their hands still linked to each other. Viktor doesn’t look inclined to let go.

“Why was Michelle the one dancing first?” Viktor asks curiously and Yuuri’s smile drops off his face. He yanks his hand away from Viktor’s and presses it close to his chest defensively. A flash of hurt passes Viktor’s delicate features and Yuuri closes his eyes.

“I’ve been demoted to understudy,” he admits begrudgingly and Viktor’s face turns sympathetic. Yuuri sighs and rubs a hand down his face. “But I’m going to work hard and get the lead back,” he promises, voice steely with determination.

Viktor visibly lights up and he beams, clapping his hands together. He looks like a child, his features even more cherubic than usual and Yuuri tries to control his jaw from going slack in awe at the reminder of how handsome Viktor is.

“That’s great, Yuuri!” Viktor says eagerly. “Wow!”

Before Yuuri can reply, Celestino calls for all the dancers to practice their group performance. Yuuri eyes Viktor regretfully and Viktor laughs softly, a heavenly sound.

“Go. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yuuri.” Viktor winks, a hint of mischief in the curl of his lips and Yuuri’s face heats up. He bows stiffly, more awkward than not, and he catches Viktor press a hand to his mouth to stifle his giggle.

The final, small smile that Viktor sends him as Yuuri walks away? That’s the smile that undoes Yuuri. The whole rehearsal, he thinks of that beatific smile, and it’s all he needs to dance his best. He’s giddy with it, giddy with the feel of Viktor’s hand on his and Viktor’s attention on him, right where it should be. Viktor doesn’t stay the whole rehearsal, and Yuuri doesn’t know where he’s gone, but still, the memory of Viktor’s smile is enough.

Michele might be good for the lead, but Yuuri was going to prove himself better.

 

—

 

Yuuri is changing in the dressing room when he hears them.

“—already fucked up so bad. Good thing it’s Michele now.”

“Katsuki’s not even that good, holy shit, he probably sucked Nikiforov’s dick to get here.”

“Jesus Christ, the way he eyes Nikiforov. Fucking thirsty.”

Laughter.

Yuuri stills, blood rushing through his ears.

From the corner of his eye, Wrath forms into being. He raises an expectant eyebrow at Yuuri and crosses his arms. “Are you going to let them say that kind of shit?”

No. No, he wasn’t.

Yuuri slams the door open and the three dancers jump in surprise. They pale when they see him.

“Who the fuck do you think you guys are?” Yuuri says quietly, dangerously. Wrath stands behind him, radiating an intense displeasure that Yuuri finds strength in. He lets the anger fuel him as he stalks towards the three. They back up and Yuuri scowls, trembling slightly in restrained rage. He’s never been this angry before.

“How dare you? How dare you talk about Viktor that way?”

Wrath makes a soft, disgusted noise but Yuuri ignores him as he glares at the dancers in front of him. They weren’t even anywhere near his level, none of them would have even been considered for lead roles. They had no ground to stand on and no right to say anything, and Yuuri tells them so.

“I am an award winning danseur, wanted by multiple companies and I have danced as the lead for more productions than you three have even _been in_.”

They stare at him in disbelief and embarrassment, and Yuuri finds that he doesn’t care about their feelings.

“You are nothing compared to me,” Yuuri bites out and they look away.

They leave, bowing deeply in apology, and once they’re out the door, the adrenaline and the anger that was fueling him disappears. Yuuri collapses on one of the benches and drops his head on his hands.

What the fuck was that?

“Wow,” Wrath laughs, a little meanly, “Never thought you had it in you.”

“Great touch with the reminder that you’re better than them,” Pride pipes up and Yuuri’s head snaps up. He stares at Pride in surprise. When did Pride get here? He hadn’t even noticed.

Wrath snorts and the two Sins start to bicker but Yuuri ignores them. He stares into the mirror and at his reflection and shudders slightly before he washes his face.

He resolutely ignores the nagging thought that something isn’t right. He had defended himself, defended Viktor, and what was wrong with that? They had insulted him first. They deserved it, didn’t they?

Yuuri never laid a hand on them, never hurt them in a way that they didn’t start with themselves.

So why did it feel so wrong?

 

 

 

 

 

 

That night, Yuuri takes out the bottle of medication from the back of his drawer.

Pride smiles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, it's been awhile ✌️ got caught up with rarepair and then catfishpromptparty lmao.
> 
> previously on _the virtue of sin_ : demons appear in yuuri's home, pride helps him w self-confidence and faking it + takes him to the doctor, michele might get the role and envy hits yuuri hard, wrath helps him fite people saying shit about viktor

Yuuri should have realized that he wouldn’t get away with it.

Emil corners him the next day after class, and for a moment, Yuuri is afraid of a repeat of yesterday. He doesn’t know why he’s worried. Emil is one of the kindest, most patient people that Yuuri’s ever known. But yet, Yuuri is afraid of judgement, of going through fire. The wide, appeasing smile that Emil sends him should be reason enough for him to relax a bit. But still, there’s no reason for Emil to talk to him and Yuuri keeps his guard up.

“Look, Yuuri,” Emil says gently. “I know that they’ve said hurtful things, but you need to be patient with them. They’re just jealous, and you’re the senior.”

“What do you want me to do then?” Yuuri bites out, trying in vain to keep his tone calm and even. Wrath isn’t here, but the feeling of anger that accompanies the demon is brimming inside of Yuuri and on the verge of spilling out.

“You should apologize,” Emil suggests patiently, the smile still on his face. Yuuri used to think it was kind before, but it only looks condescending now.

There is so much that Yuuri wants to say, but all he does is grit his teeth and nod. “You’re right,” he agrees, and it’s like pulling teeth, he hates admitting his weaknesses, “I should have been more patient. I shouldn’t have gotten upset at them.”

“You’re a good person,” Emil says, and sends him another easy smile. “I knew you’d see it that way.”

Yuuri simply nods, his jaw tight and teeth gritting together.

He watches Emil walk away. His face is blank and there’s a million different emotions warring inside of him. He feels guilty, yes, but it’s at odds with how upset he is. His anger was righteous, and they were deserving of Yuuri’s ire. He didn’t lash out at them for what they said about him—but Viktor? Viktor deserves better than that.

Yuuri doesn’t feel the need to do penance for a sin he believes is justified.

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri starts, surprised out of his reverie and he draws into himself reflexively.

“Viktor,” he breathes. Viktor looks down at him, and he squirms. He doesn’t know what he’d do if Viktor were to berate him for what Yuuri did the other day. His opinion matters so much more to Yuuri than Emil’s. If Viktor were to be upset with him, the guilt and shame would win out over the anger inside of him.

“I heard what happened,” Viktor murmurs as he steps closer toward Yuuri. Yuuri watches him warily, but he makes no move himself as Viktor draws closer. Viktor stills to a stop a scant few inches away from Yuuri, just at the edge of his personal bubble. Yuuri always thought that Viktor had magnets in him, drawn to Yuuri for some reason or another.

Viktor regards Yuuri for a moment, and the longer the silence draws out, the more his anxiety starts to fill and wrap around his lungs. Yuuri is the prostitute waiting to be stoned by the crowd, standing in front of the Lord. His nerves are high strung, and he’s ready to jump or go on his knees to beg for forgiveness, but all he can do is look up at Viktor and wait for the stone to be thrown.

“They don’t deserve your apology,” Viktor tells him quietly. Yuuri’s eyes widen, lips parting, barely believing the clear approval coming from Viktor. He feels reaffirmed, the stone never being cast, and judgement never held. Viktor’s agreement with what he was thinking like a message from up above that he’s on the right path.

“You shouldn’t put up with people who say horrible things about you.” Viktor breaks his gaze and looks out somewhere past him, his eyes distant, and Yuuri takes his time to observe Viktor’s profile.

There’s a sharpness in Viktor’s jaw that’s belied only by the softness of his gaze. Viktor looks lost for a moment, and Yuuri knows that he’s staring, but he can’t help it. Viktor seems to feel the weight of his gaze and turns to face him, his expression serious. Yuuri stifles a gasp as their eyes meet, and once again, he’s breathless with how blue Viktor’s eyes are. They’re unreal, celestial. He’s never seen that shade of icy blue in anywhere but Viktor’s eyes.

“You deserve to be here,” Viktor says firmly. “No one dances as beautifully as you.” Yuuri is struck by the way Viktor says it, as if he truly, honestly believes it with everything that he is, with his whole soul. Yuuri’s never had someone who believed in him like that before, with a surety and faith that could move mountains.

Viktor’s lips purse for a moment, before his face softens and he smiles down at Yuuri gently. He reaches out, fingertips brushing Yuuri’s chin before he cups it, and Yuuri’s heart stutters. He stares, wide-eyed, as Viktor’s thumb brushes over his bottom lip gently. Viktor’s gaze stays on him, only darting for a moment to look down at Yuuri’s lips, but it’s enough to send a frisson of heat through him.

“I’m proud of you for standing up to yourself,” Viktor murmurs. “I like seeing the parts of you that you never show anyone.”

Yuuri reddens. Viktor pulls away, taking his thumb away from Yuuri’s bottom lip, but Yuuri’s muscles stay tense. Yuuri tries to force himself to relax but he still feels on the verge of fight or flight, caught frozen instead.

“If you ever need me, ангел, just call me.”

Viktor gives him one last, piercing gaze, before he walks away from Yuuri.

Yuuri watches him go, his soul singing, and wanting, and screaming.

 _Don’t leave_ , he wants to say.

 _Please stay_ , he wants to beg.

Instead, he says nothing.

  
—

  
“—uuuuuuuri? Hello?”

Yuuri looks up, blinking in confusion. Phichit eyes him, an amused tilt to his lips. It takes a while for Yuuri to realize that Phichit is talking to him.

“Sorry, I was just thinking,” Yuuri mutters, and rubs the back of his head with a stilted motion. Phichit’s smile turns fond and he shakes his head.

“I was just asking if you wanted some of my pasta,” Phichit chirps, pushing his plate towards Yuuri. Yuuri regards the plate in front of him for a moment, wondering if it fit in his diet plan before he decided he didn’t care.

He rolls a portion of the pasta on his fork, mind still half on Viktor and only barely on their conversation.

“Celestino needs someone to help with the beginner’s class later,” Phichit says cheerfully as he scrolls through his phone. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he reads the text that Celestino has presumably sent him. “Do you want to go with me and Leo? Help share the love of dance and all that?”

The silence prompts Yuuri to look up at Phichit, catching his expectant gaze. He hesitates. He was planning to practice and log more hours in the studio.

Phichit looks at him and there must be something on Yuuri’s face that betrays what he’s thinking, because his smile falls.

“Be generous with your time,” Phichit teases, tilting his head. There’s something weird about the way Phichit is looking at him, almost as if he’s looking into Yuuri’s very soul and seeking out for something.

Yuuri looks away, and he freezes when he sees Greed a few tables away. Greed raises an eyebrow at him, and taps on his watch.

‘ _You don’t have time for that_ ,’ Greed mouths and Yuuri’s mouth thins. Greed shrugs, and raises a cup to him in a mock cheer.

Yuuri looks away to find Phichit staring at him, disappointment lining his features. Phichit’s disappointed face is unparalleled only to Yuuko or his mother, and Yuuri instinctively flinches away from him.

Yuuri carefully considers his options. He’s not perfect yet, he hasn’t gotten the steps down as well as he should and… There was always another time. Yuuri couldn’t afford to waste his time—not now, not ever.

“I was planning to practice,” he apologizes stiffly and Phichit bites his bottom lip. “I’ll try to catch up.”

“Why do you dance, Yuuri?” Phichit asks. “I dance because I want to share how much I love to dance. I want the audience to be part of the story and experience what I experience. I wish everyone could love dancing as much as I do.”

Yuuri looks down at his food. “I dance because it’s the only thing I know how to do. I dance because I’m good at it.” _I dance because I want attention and love and to actually succeed in something for once._

 

 

Phichit and he part ways at their studio’s building. There’s a hesitancy to the way Phichit says goodbye, as if he doesn’t want to let Yuuri go. Yuuri isn’t in the mood to be guilt tripped in helping with the beginner’s class. Besides, he knows that Phichit can handle it himself. Phichit only lets him go with a promise that they'll meet up after.

On the way there, he passes by Madame Baronovskaya. She eyes him, and he shrinks slightly, but once she sees the bag in his hands she simply tilts her head.

“If only the rest were as diligent as you,” she says cooly, and Yuuri flushes at the unexpected comment. He’s unsure if it’s a compliment or not, but something in him wants to take it as one.

Thankfully, the studio that they use is empty. Yuuri sets up his phone, connecting it to the speakers.

He loses himself in the music, in the moves and steps that he knows bone deep. He doesn’t even have to think anymore, muscle memory guiding him as he strains for technical and performance perfection.

Too delicate, they told him, not enough passion, not enough want or drive but Yuuri would show them. With every grand jete, every assemblé, every fouetté, Yuuri throws himself into it, tight bursts of control, lets himself fall into the movement. With every allongé, every extension of his arms and legs, he yearns, years for something more, something greater than what he is.

When the music ends, so does Yuuri.

He stares at himself in the mirror. He’s achingly alone even if it’s a choice he deliberately made so he could practice without fear of judgement. Phichit is in the studio on the other side of the building, helping with the beginner’s class. Yuuri is done now. Maybe he can still catch up.

He makes his way to the speakers resting in front of the mirror and bends down to pick up his phone to check the time. He bites his lip. If he goes there now, he can help with the cool down and maybe the last few minutes of class.

“Michele’s extension is better than yours.” The silence in the studio only serves to make Envy’s voice echo, and despite himself, Yuuri feels chills race up his spine.

He looks up, his eyes sliding across the mirror, until he meets the reflection of Envy’s dark gaze.

“I know.”

Their gazes hold for a second, a minute, Yuuri isn’t sure, but he looks away and stands up, dropping his phone on the floor of the studio. Phichit doesn’t need his help. He has Leo anyway.

He gives himself one last look in the mirror before he turns away from Envy’s eyes, hand delicate on the barre. He doesn’t even notice that Envy is gone. Envy left a tangible heaviness in Yuuri’s gut, and it’s like he’s still there. Yuuri can not escape him.

He takes in a deep breath, and practices his extensions.

The only one here to judge his form is himself. And yet, it feels like there’s a thousand eyes upon him, an angel’s host watching his every move.

 

 

It’s dark out by the time Yuuri finishes up. His muscles are sore, and he’s already thinking about filling his bathtub up and dumping Epsom salts. Just imagining the heat and how relaxing it would feel makes him want to moan.

Maybe it’s because of how distracted he is that he doesn’t notice the dark figure walk out from the hallway to his left. He bumps into someone, and he stumbles back.

“Sorry,” he apologizes automatically, looking up with an embarrassed grimace. It freezes on his face once he sees the familiar, otherworldly blue. “Viktor.”

“Yuuri!” Viktor greets in surprise. His smile turns heart-shaped, familiar in its beauty. “What are you doing here at this time?”

“I was—I was practicing for my solo,” he stumbles out, words ungraceful as he is. Viktor only gives him a patient smile, unheeding to his stutters and his hesitance.

“I was just heading out to meet a friend. Would you like to join me?” Viktor asks. Yuuri bites his lip, eyes skittering away. He must just be being polite. He couldn't possibly mean the invitation as genuine.

“He means it,” he hears, and Yuuri just barely jumps out of his own skin. He starts, enough for Viktor to eye him worriedly, but Yuuri ignores him in favor of glancing at Pride.

“He’s not just being polite,” Pride continues. “He wants to have coffee with you.”

“It’s just a little cafe near the studio,” Viktor adds, voice silky smooth. “My treat, I promise. For your hard work.”

Yuuri half-expects Gluttony to appear and goad him into the free food, but she doesn’t. With a little bitterness, Yuuri can’t help but think that maybe it’s cause he doesn’t need the help to be even more of a glutton. Yuuri’s always lacked self-control in food and drink.

“A coffee and a pastry isn’t enough to make you fat,” Pride grumbles, and even if Yuuri isn’t looking at him, he can tell that Pride is rolling his eyes. It’s eery. He doesn’t know if Pride can read his mind, or if Yuuri is simply that obvious.

“I would love to,” he finally says, aware that the silence between him and Viktor has stretched out too long.

Viktor visibly lights up, the only thing missing is angel choirs singing, and an actual light from up above spotlighting Viktor.

“Amazing!” Viktor chirps, and Yuuri can’t help but smile in face of the brightness that is Viktor. He lets Viktor lead him, already forgetting his plan of meeting up with Phichit.

 

 

  
"This is Chris," Viktor introduces, a fond smile on his face as he looks up at his friend. Yuuri looks up and his blood runs cold. He stares, eyes wide and jaw slack at the man beside Viktor.

"Hello, Yuuri," Lust purrs, eyelashes fluttering, a delicate brush against the top of his cheeks. There’s nothing to show that Lust isn’t normal, isn’t human right now. There’s no tail, no horns, no solid black eyes. The only hint is in his eyes—green, but otherworldly. Yuuri feels like if he looks long enough he’ll see something he doesn’t want to see.

"I," Yuuri stutters. He thought he was the only one who could see them. Why is he with Viktor? Does Viktor know?

"Viktor, darling," Lust pouts, "Let me have some alone time with your Yuuri for a moment."

Viktor huffs, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gives Lust a Look. Yuuri feels the hair of his arms stand up and he shivers slightly. There's something in Lust's eyes that makes Viktor back down, and Yuuri doesn't want to know what it is. Viktor's shoulders drop and he sighs.

"Don't steal him away from me," Viktor says, and winks playfully.

Yuuri is still frozen from the sight of Lust. His limbs are locked, and he looks up to send Viktor a pleading look to please stay, but Viktor is already waking away to the counter of the cafe, the people in his way parting like the Red Sea.

"Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri." Lust regards him in amusement, dropping his head on his hand as he stares at Yuuri with the now familiar heat in his eyes.

"Why are you here, Lust?" Yuuri clenches at the cloth of his pants, jaw tight and voice shaky. His hands are trembling, and Yuuri is glad that the table hides at least that. Showing any weakness in front of the Sins makes him anxious. They’ve already seen him at his worst, yet Yuuri doesn’t want to give them any more ground.

"It's Chris," Lust corrects, danger in his deceptively gentle tone, but that same flirtatious smile still playing on his lips.

Yuuri releases a breath he didn't even know he was holding and he looks away, heart racing. Being around Lust always makes him feel so flustered, makes him want for something Yuuri can’t name. "Why are you here, Chris?"

Chris smirks. “I can’t spend time with friends?”

He leans closer, the coffee table in between them no longer a barrier that Yuuri can depend on.

"You can never escape us."

Before Yuuri can reply, Viktor comes back with three cups. His lips thin, and he looks down at the table. He can feel both of their gazes on him, but Yuuri ignores it.

Slowly, Viktor starts a conversation and Yuuri follows. Chris is surprisingly easy to talk to, and maybe Yuuri would have liked him as a friend if it weren’t for the whole demon thing.

And if Chris weren’t being such a dick right now too.

The whole time, Yuuri can’t help but feel as if Lust—as if Chris is intentionally goading him. He’s sitting beside Viktor, an arm over the back of Viktor’s chair, and it takes everything in Yuuri not to glare. Instead, he drinks his coffee angrily, and bites into his croissant with too much fervor.

Worst of all, Chris keeps _flirting_ and touching Viktor. Yuuri’s hackles are raised, and when Viktor turns his head away, Yuuri shoots Chris a dark glare. He thought the Sins were supposed to be helping him. At his glare, Chris only smirks, fluttering his eyelashes teasingly.

Deliberately, Chris places a hand on Viktor’s bicep, never looking away from Yuuri as he squeezes. Yuuri feels physically sick. “Viktor, sweetheart,” Chris croons. “Thank you so much for the drinks.”

Viktor smiles at him, shrugging slightly. “It’s nothing,” he chuckles and Yuuri seethes. He wallows in envy and anger, trying to keep a hold on it. Neither Envy or Wrath even have to appear to goad him on.

“But alas,” Chris moans dramatically, and Yuuri flinches at how obscene it sounds. “I have to go.” He leans over, right into Viktor’s personal space, and Yuuri watches in horror as he presses a kiss to Viktor’s cheek.

“I’ll see you around, Yuuri,” Chris croons, a smirk on his lips as he winks. It feels like a threat. Viktor waves, and Yuuri focuses on him as safe, an anchor. Yuuri swallows down the instinctual fear and watches Chris walk away.

“Are you together?” he blurts out, and then clasps a hand over his mouth in horror. Viktor blinks in surprise at the question, and Yuuri feels his face heat up. He groans, and Viktor laughs, tilting his head to appraise Yuuri.

“Are you jealous?” Viktor asks right back in amusement. Yuuri splutters, shaking his hands in front of him defensively and Viktor laughs again.

“Why,” Viktor muses. “I was beginning to think you weren’t interested in me as I am to you.”

Yuuri gapes. “You’re interested?” His voice comes out as a squeak, but to his credit, Viktor doesn’t laugh at him. Instead, his smile turns inexplicably fond, and all it does is makes Yuuri even more flustered.

“I’m _very_ interested,” Viktor clarifies. “I’m glad we cleared that up.”

Yuuri flushes a dark red, and he can’t control the shy smile that curls up on his lips.

They stay for a little while in the cafe, Yuuri soaking up Viktor’s undivided attention now that Chris is gone. Every touch Viktor gives him, every look he sends, it’s manna from up above, filling Yuuri’s soul with the attention and love he’s been craving. He’s never let himself think of this, never thought he could have something like this.

The fact that Viktor is actually interested in him is a miracle in itself, surely only possible by divine intervention.

When they finally part ways, Yuuri isn’t surprised to see Lust waiting for him at the corner. Yuuri calls him Lust again, because the green eyes are gone, replaced by solid black. Yuuri can’t ignore the tail wrapped around Lust’s body like a lover, tantalizing in the way it caresses his body. The horn peeking out through Lust’s hair is the final reminder that Lust is not human.

“What game are you playing?” Yuuri asks quietly. He’s not angry. He can’t be, not with the giddiness from being around Viktor that’s given him wings. Nothing can drag him down.

Lust only tilts his head and smiles. “You respond well to jealousy and envy.”

Yuuri narrows his eyes, hands coming up over his chest defensively. Lust only watches him idly before he shrugs. “You never would have made said anything.”

Lust gives him one last, lazy smirk before he disappears. His last words ring in the air, seeping through Yuuri’s bones.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

 

When he finally checks his phone, the number of texts and miscalls from Phichit surprises him.

 

_**WAIT FOR ME. Don’t leave without me.** _

_**Where are you?** _

_**Yuuri, pick up. Please.** _

  
—

 

It’s not just Lust. Everywhere Yuuri goes, the seven deadly sins follow him. People he’s never noticed before suddenly reveal themselves to him as the demons he’s recently been intimate with.

Wrath is the teenaged boy in his ballet class, his glares still strong enough to make the skin at the back of Yuuri’s neck prickle. The first time he notices Wrath, Wrath doesn’t even acknowledge him, only rolls his eyes and goes back to the barre. Yuuri remembers Celestino mentioning his attitude before. He doesn't know how he's forgotten.

Greed is one of the dog owners Yuuri used to see all the time at the park, when he still had Vicchan. He doubletakes when he sees them, and when Greed’s Husky looks up, he freezes. For a moment, the Husky is double his normal size, his face more teeth than anything, and his eyes a bright red. Yuuri blinks, and the hellhound is gone, just the Husky in its place. Yuuri quickly walks away.

Sloth is his neighbor, a 17 year old Chinese boy who lives two doors down. Yuuri’s passed by him in the hallway a thousand times before, has been in the same elevator as him, and never once did he notice the flash of black in his eyes.

Envy is Viktor’s assistant, trailing behind him with a broody expression on his face. Yuuri doesn’t know if the circles underneath his eyes are make-up, or just simply eyebags, but it doesn’t matter when Envy meets his eyes with depthless black.

Pride is their producer. Loud, boisterous and arrogant. Yuuri’s complained about him to Phichit before, but he can’t deny that Pride knows what he’s doing. He can’t deny either what Pride has done for him, and the humanity he’s seen in Pride.

Why hadn’t Yuuri noticed them before? Why were they suddenly standing out to him now? The worst part is that they’ve never registered to him before as demons. He’s never noticed how inhuman their eyes were before.

How long have they been in Yuuri’s life, just waiting for the moment he was weakest? How long have they been watching him?

Yuuri gets his answer when he drops by his family. The first thing he sees is his mother, and beside her is Gluttony, sake in hand, and a flush on her cheeks.

The sight of Gluttony makes him freeze, blood draining from his face.

Gluttony is his aunt, his mother’s best friend. There are pictures of her on their walls, pictures of her with _Yuuri_. Yuuri grew up with her presence—hell, she’s the one who introduced Yuuri to ballet in the first place.

His mother leaves them alone for a moment, and the moment she’s out of earshot, Yuuri turns to face Gluttony.

“What have you done to Minako-sensei?” Yuuri’s voice breaks and Minako’s eyes, an odd shade of brown now that Yuuri’s really looking, they soften a bit.

“Yuuri,” she murmurs, “I _am_ Minako-sensei.”

Yuuri shakes his head in denial, “No. I don’t—I don’t understand, this doesn’t make sense.”

“There are bigger things at stake than you could even imagine,” Minako soothes, but it does nothing to ease the mix of confusion and anxiety inside of him.

“You’re not human,” Yuuri chokes out, staring at her. “You’re a monster.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Minako sighs, “Once you realize that the true monsters are humans…” She trails off, and smiles at him, a closemouthed thing that makes Yuuri lean back a bit.

“Maybe then you’ll understand.”

 

—

 

“You’ve been working yourself too hard.”

Yuuri doesn’t even jump anymore. He’s so used to the Sins popping up out of nowhere that the invasion of privacy doesn’t even matter to him anymore. He turns to face Sloth and raises an eyebrow. Sloth just smiles at him in return, a slight flush in his cheeks before he ducks his head.

Sloth is stretched out on Yuuri’s couch, one of the pillows wrapped up in his arms and a phone is in his hands. Yuuri’s never seen anyone who looked as relaxed as Sloth does in this moment. He squints at the phone. Odd. He wonders who demons would text.

“I was thinking you could just chill and relax today. Rest days are important, you should give yourself time to recover,” Sloth says sagely. It’s unnerving to get advice from someone who looks so much younger than him, but Yuuri nods anyway as he looks back down at his cup noodles.

“I had plans with Phichit and Leo though,” Yuuri mutters. He hears a loud crack and he jolts in surprise, noodles dropping back into the cup with a splash. He looks up to see Sloth’s dark expression, his phone in pieces in front of him.

Yuuri stares, holding his breath. Sloth’s head turns, and when their eyes meet, it takes everything in Yuuri not to scream. The Sins are always an odd mixture of demon and human, but right now, Sloth is more demon than anything. His eyes have turned into slits filled with black, teeth sharpening into fangs, and cracks on his face revealing fire.

Sloth seems to take in a deep breath, before the benign, sweet smile is back on his face. The cracks in his human facade fade, until the freckles and the flush are back.

“Just cancel. You see them practically everyday,” Sloth says. Yuuri is still wary, so he keeps his mouth shut and nods. Sloth seems to relax, practically melting back into Yuuri’s couch. Yuuri gives him one last look before he pulls out his phone.

He opens up his group chat with Phichit and Leo and stares at it thoughtfully before he finally types out a message.

 

_**Can’t today guys, sorry :( Too tired from yesterday, I just need to take a break.** _

 

Phichit reads it almost instantly, his name popping up underneath Yuuri’s message. Yuuri watches the bubble show up, Phichit typing, but a message never comes. The bubble disappears, and Yuuri frowns, biting his lip. He hopes Phichit isn’t upset with him.

Yuuri finishes his instant noodles, and when he looks back on his couch to check on Sloth, he’s no longer there. He frowns, shrugging to himself before he walks towards his bedroom.

He opens the door, and blinks at the sight of Sloth lying down on his bed without a care in the world. Sloth looks up and smiles at him, before patting the empty space.

Slowly, hesitantly, Yuuri joins him. Sloth already has Yuuri’s laptop out and open to Netflix. It’s on his favorite show, and maybe Yuuri should be concerned that Sloth knows him too well, but he brushes it off.

He shouldn’t, but he lets himself relax, eyes fixed on the screen.

He doesn’t even notice time passing. Sloth is silent beside him, and Yuuri only hears small sounds whenever Sloth reacts to what’s happening in the show. It’s a strange juxtaposition to earlier, and it makes Sloth seem more human.

But that aside, Yuuri feels more relaxed than he has in the past few weeks. He hasn’t really let himself have me time recently, aside from his alone time in the studio, but that didn’t even really count anymore. Dance used to be a great way for him to relieve stress, his only place to truly be free, but now…

Yuuri’s broken out of his reverie when the buzz of the doorbell rings through his tiny apartment. Yuuri looks up. He frowns, and just as he’s about to stand up to get to the door, Sloth places a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Just pretend you’re not here,” Sloth suggests. The idea is more appealing than it should be. It’s not even because Yuuri is lazy to get up, it’s just that he’s wary of having to talk to someone in his state.

He’s about to lie back down when the person at the door starts to pound, loud knocks filling the apartment and making Yuuri wince.

“Fuck,” he mutters, and gets up. This time, Sloth doesn’t stop him, and Yuuri sighs as he makes his way to his door. The loud slams on his door don’t ease up at all, and Yuuri takes in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for social interaction.

With a loud exhale, he opens it, and blinks at the familiar face.

“Phichit?” Yuuri says in surprise, voice soft and strained at the unexpected sight of his best friend.

“ _You_ ,” Phichit snarls, and Yuuri takes an instinctive step back at the sharpness and the steel in his voice. He looks nothing like the Phichit that Yuuri knows and loves. His eyes are all brimstone and fire, acid in his tone, and Yuuri… Yuuri is afraid. He opens his mouth to reply, but the words catch in his throat and Phichit isn’t even looking at him, he’s looking at—

“How dare you?” Phichit seethes, gaze fixed on Greed. Greed appraises him silently, before a smirk curls his lips upwards.

“Took you long enough to notice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> then who is Phichit??????? :o :o :O AND WHO IS VIKTOR?? i think i put in enough ~foreshadowing~ for Phichit? and others? 
> 
> thank you for all the comments <3
> 
> in other words, i just reached my ao3 goals and i'm doing a **fic giveaway** for you lovely readers and i set up something too! pls check out details over [here](https://gia-comeatme.tumblr.com/post/164369755649/fic-giveaway)


	3. Chapter 3

“You went behind our backs,” Phichit hisses. “You disobeyed the rules.”

Greed’s face doesn’t change, only a tiny smirk on his face that hints at what he’s thinking. “He allowed us,” Greed answers, voice flat yet tinged with an undercurrent of amusement. Yuuri looks up in surprise, his eyes wide. Greed looks like he’s laughing at Phichit, and that doesn’t make sense. Yuuri doesn’t understand. “You weren’t watching your charge well enough, were you?”

“Yuuri wouldn’t allow you to help him,” Phichit snarls in reply and Yuuri feels his heart stop. Greed laughs, and Yuuri realizes that it’s the first time he’s ever heard Greed laugh. There’s something just a little off about it, an echo to his laughter that makes Yuuri uneasy.

“Why don’t you ask your friend?” Greed taunts, and when Phichit turns to look at him, Yuuri can’t meet his friend’s eyes. He looks away, shame and guilt filling him to the brim.

“Yuuri,” Phichit whispers. Yuuri’s heart clenches painfully. He feels his breath coming shorter, and he clenches his fist tightly against his side in an effort to ground himself. It doesn’t work against Phichit’s penetrating gaze. “How could you allow them to help you?”

“I was—I just wanted things to be good, I needed them—“

“You don’t need them, Yuuri! We were helping you, we were supporting you, you didn’t need to turn to them,” Phichit cuts him off and Yuuri’s jaw goes tight.

“They _helped_ me. Things are good now, don’t you see? I’m so close to getting my role back, and, and I’m doing better and I’m _happy_ and—“

“Yuuri, they’re _using_ you!” Phichit yells and Yuuri’s face shutters, turning blank.

“He thinks you’re so easily manipulated,” Wrath whispers to him and Yuuri clenches his fists, trying to in vain to stop his hands from trembling, but it doesn’t do anything. Phichit’s eyes narrow into slits and he turns to face Wrath, an inhuman, righteous rage crossing his features.

Yuuri doesn’t recognize him—doesn’t know this creature that’s replaced his best friend.

“Don’t put words into my mouth, _demon_ ,” Phichit denies furiously as he glares at Wrath, tone dripping venom at the very last word. Yuuri’s eyes narrow.

“How did you mean it then?” Yuuri asks quietly and Phichit turns to face him, his brown eyes warm and brown. Familiar.

“They’re _demons_ , Yuuri. They came for you at your weakest point,” Phichit says desperately. _Weak_. Yuuri stares in shock at his best friend. Was that how Phichit thought of him? Was he thinking how weak Yuuri was all this time, ever since Vicchan had died?

If there was anything that Yuuri hated, it was to be called weak.

“At least we were honest,” Greed says from behind as he places a heavy hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. It feels grounding, possessive, a claim of ownership. Yuuri finds that he doesn’t mind as much as he should. “Isn’t that right, _Generosity_?“

Phichit draws back immediately, his face shuttering into an unreadable expression, blanker than anything Yuuri has ever seen before.

“I—What?” Yuuri asks numbly, “Generosity? What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

Phichit’s face twists and Greed laughs darkly.

“Yuuri,” Phichit starts pleadingly and Greed immediately cuts him off with a harsh burst of sound.

“He’s been lying to you,” Greed sneers at Phichit, grip tightening on Yuuri’s shoulder and Yuuri’s heart clenches, his stomach twisting painfully. “All of them have been lying to you from the start.”

“It’s not like that,” Phichit murmurs, reaching out to Yuuri and Yuuri steps away without even thinking, his lips parted in shock. Phichit’s face falls, but Yuuri doesn’t care. He always thought he could rely on Phichit— even considered the other man to be his _best friend_. And the fact that Phichit had been lying to him all this time?

“He’s an angel. One of the Contrary Virtues,” Wrath tells him. “He’s been pretending to be your friend, he was never going to tell you.”

“I _am_ your friend,” Phichit protests, voice weak, and Yuuri shakes his head furiously. Fuck. He’s so angry.

His lips twist in disdain and Phichit steps away. Yuuri’s only anchor right now is the steady hands of Wrath and Greed beside him, keeping him up and supporting him.

“You lied to me,” Yuuri says and Phichit stares at him, his expression the definition of heartbroken. “I think you should leave.”

Phichit opens his mouth but Yuuri shakes his head as he looks away. He can’t even bear to look Phichit in the eyes.

“Leave.”

“Yuuri,” Phichit whispers, “You don’t know the price you’re paying. The things at stake… Viktor isn’t who he seems—“

Phichit is Noah, a prophet ignored, and salvation refused. His word was Gospel, spoken as if he was Truth herself coming out of the well to shame mankind--to shame Yuuri. And Yuuri? Yuuri wanted no place in that.

“I said _leave_ , Generosity.”

Yuuri shuts the door. He leans back against it, shaking, and it takes everything in him not to sink down on the floor. He ignores Phichit’s desperate knocks, covering his face and his eyes squeezed shut.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him,” Greed says. There’s a sinister twist to his lips that Yuuri catches right before he disappears.

The knocks stop. Yuuri’s heart aches for a moment before he forcefully shakes it off.

When he turns around, Yuuri isn’t surprised to see all seven of the demons in his living room.

“Who else? Who else has been lying to me?” he demands. They look at each other, each one of their eyes speaking multitudes.

Pride finally speaks up, voice low. “You deserve the truth,” he agrees sympathetically. “You deserve to know.”

“I do.”

It’s Gluttony who comes up, and it hurts to see her now, because Yuuri can’t trust her either. Phichit isn’t the only one who’s lied to him, and Gluttony’s been lying to him too for as long as Yuuri can remember, maybe even before.

“Here,” she says seriously, eyes momentarily the dark brown that Yuuri knows. She sticks out her hand, and there’s a ring on her palm, the bright gold of it taunting him. Yuuri stares at it, an odd feeling overcoming him.

There’s a part of him that screams to take it, and another part that makes him want to run and hide.

“What is this?” he finally croaks out, voice hoarse as his eyes stay transfixed on the golden ring. He feels like he should know.

“So you will know the Truth,” Greed says quietly from where he is. The manic air that was surrounding him when Phichit—when Generosity was here is mostly gone, his aura back to the coolness that Yuuri associates with him.

“How can I trust you?” Yuuri asks. His voice breaks, embarrassingly enough, but he keeps his head held up high. He asks this to them all, but his gaze is directed at Gluttony. “You’ve lied to me too.”

Gluttony rises to her full height, grace personified as she looks down at Yuuri. “If you take the ring, I’ll tell you the truth.”

Yuuri doesn’t look away from her as he reaches out and takes the ring. He slips it on his right ring finger without even thinking, an odd sense of finality resting on his bones, as if he’s made a decision. He stares.

It feels right. It feels like it belongs.

When he looks away from the ring, eyes back up to Gluttony, it takes everything in him not to scream. Instead, he stumbles back in horror, eyes widening.

The Sins have always looked like a mix of demon and human, and Yuuri has seen their forms lean towards human for the better part. Aside from that time with Sloth just an hour or so ago, they’ve been good at keeping up with their human forms.

But now… Gluttony doesn’t look anything even close to human. He sees her, and he sees his Aunt Minako, two separate spirits contained in a vessel and barely distinct from each other. He can’t quite tell where Gluttony ends and his Aunt Minako begins, their forms so intertwined. Yuuri just has the unexplainable, intrinsic knowledge that it was so.

Gluttony is the one who tilts her head at him, but it is his Aunt Minako that gives him a sad smile.

x

“I made a deal, long ago,” Gluttony tells him. Yuuri closes his eyes, head dropping to the table as he listens to her.

“I just wanted to be famous. I wanted to get out of Hasetsu and make a name for myself. I wanted to be beautiful.”

Gluttony closes her eyes for a moment before they slowly open. “I called in a favor. I didn’t think much of it, and if I knew now how much it would have cost me—“ She cuts herself off abruptly, lips thinning as she straightens up to look around her.

Yuuri waits for her to continue, but Gluttony only shakes her head. “If I had known,” she repeats, and Yuuri knows without a doubt what she’s thinking. 

“And you… You didn’t cry when you were born.” Gluttony’s voice is calm, voice steady. It’s not unlike the voice she uses in the studio. “You were marked,” her voice breaks here, the first sign of weakness from her that Yuuri’s seen and his heart flutters at the need to touch her, to comfort her.

She sighs. ”I didn’t know what it was on your chest but—angels and demons alike, they knew you. They knew of you. They said they’ve been waiting for you. Your birth was written in the stars long before you were even a thought in your parents’ minds.”

Yuuri doesn’t know any of this. His parents never told him, never even hinted that maybe, Yuuri wasn’t normal, wasn’t of here. A chill passes through his bones and Yuuri stomps down the urge to shiver.

“They said the same thing about me,” Gluttony says sardonically. She quirks her lips in a facsimile of a smile before she her lips thin.

“I didn’t think that He would be interested in you too but…” Gluttony trails off. She looks away. “The day of your first recital, He came.” Gluttony says softly. Her voice has taken on a dreamlike quality, her eyes lost in memory. _Who?_ Yuuri thinks.

“I thought that was it but then…”

The ring on Yuuri’s finger burns. His left hand comes over to clutch on it, squeezing his own hand in comfort in an effort to stave the burn.

“That was the first time He noticed you,” Gluttony says. She eyes the ring for a moment before she drags her gaze away.

Yuuri’s throat feels locked. He chokes out, just barely, “Who?”

Gluttony turns her head to look at him, and for the first time since he’s known her as Gluttony, he sees her as his Aunt Minako. She looks forlorn, regretful almost.

She doesn’t answer him. She doesn’t need to.

x

There is something that Yuuri begins to increasingly understand. The Sins are merely perversions of love.

Love of self. Love of money, of power, of sex, of comfort, of food, of what isn’t yours. A perversion of love, but love all the same.

But of course, anything you love more than God is but a false idol.

Was it really their mistake to love?

He starts to see the Sins differently. It’s hard not to, not with how the ring on his finger practically exposes them to the very fibers of their being. If he thought that demon eyes and demon tails and cracked skin with hellfire raging was horrifying, it’s nothing compared to the truth that comes with the ring. They can’t hide from him, they can’t hide from the ring. Yuuri sees how ugly the darkness in them is, the black tar that’s coated their very souls, tainting it to its very center.

And yet, Yuuri sees that they’re just like him.

Lost. A little alone. Desperate.

He learns their names and their stories, learns what they loved enough to give up everything else. Maybe that’s the last straw. It makes them seem human. They had been, once upon a time. Men and women with dreams—impossible dreams. (Impossible for men and women alone.)

Yuuri is scared to look in the mirror. He doesn’t know if he’ll like what he sees.

Before he goes to sleep that night, he palms the ring in his hand. Tomorrow, everything will change.

Tomorrow, Yuuri will see the Truth.

x

Yuuri opens his eyes to blinding white. He flinches and covers his eyes with his arm. It’s painful, white spots remain in his vision even as the light dims to an acceptable level.

When he opens his eyes again, he doesn’t know where he is. He looks around, his eyebrows furrowed. It’s not so much that the light is white, but everything in the room he’s in is white. Clean and spotless, devoid of life. Clinical almost.

There’s a certain feeling that comes with going back to where you had grown up in. Yuuri and his family haven’t lived in Japan for a while now, a decade at least. When Yuuri had visited, it had been with a mix of nostalgia and an odd bittersweetness that he hadn’t expected to feel.

He was home, but he wasn’t. Japan wasn’t home anymore, but neither was Detroit. Yuuri was too irrevocably changed from his time in America, but yet, Japan still made up such an integral part of him and had shaped him into who he was.

This is what Yuuri feels now.

He walks down the hallway that appears to his side, feet moving without his permission. He knows where to go, but he doesn’t know where he’s going.

Yuuri isn’t quite sure how much time has passed since he woke up in the white room, but he comes to the end of the hallway, a large door encompassing the entire wall.

It’s intricately carved with a multitude of angels from Archangels to Thrones to guardian angels alike. Yuuri sees and Yuuri knows. He looks at them passively, something deep in his gut stirring.

Somehow, he _knows_. If someone asked him to, he could point them out all by name.

Yuuri feels nothing as he steps right through the door. He passes through as if the barrier is nothing but an illusion and he finds himself blinded once more. Vaguely, he feels like he should be scared but there’s a calm that’s encompassed him and keeping him levelheaded.

He blinks. In a moment, the room is clear to him, and Yuuri's first though is that it’s much like the room he woke up in, strikingly white and devoid of color. The difference though, is that there are people in this room.

No—not people. Angels.

Yuuri looks at them passively. He can’t seem to muster up any emotion as he stares at their features from afar. He feels like he should. Yuuri walks toward them, steps making no noise as he closes the distance.

They don’t seem to notice him, and Yuuri wonders why. (He shouldn’t be surprised. No one really notices him.)

As he nears them, he starts to hear the brief snatches of conversation. Nothing that makes sense to him by itself, but the more he hears, the more Yuuri is sure that they’re talking about him.

“We can’t do anything about it. This is beyond our control.”

“Please. Yuuri is worth it, he’s worth fighting for.”

Yuuri frowns. He tilts his head thoughtfully to stare at the increasingly familiar being. The confirmation that they’re talking about him behind his back burns a little.

“A man that doesn’t want to be saved can not.”

Does he? Does he want to be fought for? He frowns again. He quite likes where he is. What is there to fight for him?

“You forget, brother. He is not just a man.”

There’s a quiet _snick_ as a puzzle piece slots into place.

No. No he isn’t.

x

Yuuri wakes up with his heart pounding, his skin slick with sweat and tears rolling down his cheeks.

He sits up, and realizes he’s not alone.

“Rest,” Guang Hong whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

He lets out a sob, breathing loud and heavy in his otherwise silent room as he squeezes his eyes shut. It surprises him.

“I can’t—I don’t understand, I need, I want—“ Yuuri chokes on his words, dizzy, and he’s dimly aware of Guang Hong suddenly disappearing. He jolts, vision going blurry as the solitude is even worse than the demon’s cloying presence. The darkness and the silence of his room is overwhelming, only serving to help the panic consume him. Yuuri squeezes his eyes shut, trying to stave off the attack he knows is coming.

He’s left unprepared by the sudden presence beside him.

He stills.

It’s not Guang Hong.

A gentle hand rests on his back, and Yuuri… Yuuri melts into the touch, desperate for warmth and companionship, taking comfort in anything. His sheets rustle, and Yuuri doesn’t look back, something stopping him and keeping his gaze fixed forwards.

He can only stay still as the presence settles behind him, their arm solid around Yuuri’s shoulders and their firm chest pressed against Yuuri’s side. A steady warmth radiates from where they’re pressed together and Yuuri feels his throat dry.

“Who are you?” he croaks out, and the presence beside him says nothing. He hears a soft sigh and feels the oddly gentle press of lips to the back of his neck.

“I told you to call when you needed me,” they say. Yuuri stiffens. “Go back to sleep.”

There’s so much that Yuuri wants to say, so much that he wants to ask. All is forgotten when a hand brushes through Yuuri’s hair, and a gentle push to his shoulders presses him back against his bed.

He stares up into beautiful blue. It’s the last thing he sees before sleep takes him into her arms once more.

 

 

 

 

  
When he wakes up the next day, the other side of the bed is cold. Yuuri frowns. He doesn’t know why he expected it to be warm.

 

x

 

Yuuri comes to the studio. It’s the last day of their normal rehearsals before the dress rehearsals and technical rehearsals and the last day for Yuuri to prove himself worthy of his role.

There are more than 20 missed calls and 50 unanswered texts on Yuuri’s phone.

When Yuuri sees his friends, it’s with a mix of disappointment. He stares at them and for the first time, he sees what they really are and sees through their lies.

He had tried to prepare for this, for the inevitably that some of his closest friends weren’t who they said they were but yet, there is no way he could have prepared for the aching hurt deep inside him.

He had already known about Phichit, of course, but—Yuuri’s cheeks burned furiously as he stood his ground and stared at the angels observing him.

Minami. Emil. Even Lilia and Mickey!

Yuuri resists the urge to snarl at them for their betrayal, for every single time they had hidden their true selves and their intentions. They lied to him, kept the truth from him as if he was nothing but a child.

Phichit--no, _Generosity_ tries to close the distance and to approach him, but one of the others stop him. Yuuri sends him a dark, hurt look and Generosity's only response is a pained wince.

There’s a furiousness and a passion that burns him during rehearsal that drives him to perform with breathtaking skill and pinpoint perfection. Celestino takes note of course, but not even his praise is enough to stave off the anger that’s made it’s space in Yuuri’s heart.

It’s with a vicious pride that Yuuri accepts his role being handed to him once more, and he can’t resist but send a challenging gaze that he directs towards those who he now knows as the Contrary Virtues. He resists the urge to sneer. They aren't the Heavenly Virtues, merely Virtues that are direct opposites of the Seven Deadly Sins. They are  _nothing_ compared to him.

They meet his gaze solemnly, a stillness to their presence that throws Yuuri off for a moment before he quickly recovers.

He stalks off and refuses to meet their eyes a second time.

From the corner of the room, Yuri and JJ only watch him.

 

  
It’s with a clearer mind that Yuuri makes his way towards the cafe he and Yuuko frequent in. It’s one of the only few safe spaces he has left, untainted by either angel or demon.

He needed to see Yuuko. She was always kind to him, always there for him and always ready with a smile. If there was anyone Yuuri could count on, it was Yuuko--

"Yuuri."

Yuuri looks up and his blood runs cold. His ring burns for a moment, but it is the revelation that strikes him.

Angel, his mind registers.

"Kindness," Georgi greets amiably from his side. Yuuko's lips purse and, surprisingly, she smiles at Georgi.

"Hello, Envy," Yuuko says pleasantly. Her gaze shifts back to Yuuri.

"Yuuri," she repeats. She’s quiet for a moment as she regards him, and Yuuri lets her, taking his time to observe her himself. There’s a quiet understanding in the look on her face, as if she’s seen through all his walls and found him lacking. “There are some things you don't understand."

"I understand plenty." Yuuri bristles slightly, his shoulders drawing tight and bunching beneath his shirt. They keep treating him as if he's so naïve, too simple to understand that he was being lied to. Was he not good enough? Was he too weak to be told the truth?

Yuuri clenches his fists on the table, his ring glinting for a moment and Yuuko's eyes narrow in on it immediately.

Yuuri watches curiously as the sweet expression on Yuuko's face is immediately replaced with a scowl, the wings that Yuuri can know see on her back ruffling up and spreading out dangerously. He glances around him at the other people in the cafe, none of whom seem to notice the angel ready to smite someone in their midst.

"I know what you are," Yuuri says quietly. Yuuko doesn't even seem to hear him, her eyes still locked with the ring on Yuuri's finger.

"Why are you wearing that?" Yuuko bites out.

"You know why," Georgi says smugly, his pointed tail cat-like in how it flicks in satisfaction. Yuuko deflates, her wings drawing in on themselves to press close to her back.

"You've made your choice then," Yuuko murmurs. “This is who you truly are.”

"I have," Yuuri agrees.

x

"Drink!" Minako goads, giggling into his ear as she hands him another drink.

Yuuri chugs it, the need for the daze and confidence that alcohol brings overpowering his fear at embarrassing himself once more. Minako hands him drink after drink and Yuuri takes it until his mind is pleasantly buzzed and he doesn't know anything past the warmth in his veins. He doesn’t know why he keeps taking it, why he can’t seem to keep from indulging himself in drink, but the alcohol takes away his questions.

Yuuri just wants to forget. He wants to forget the look on the Virtues’ faces, their observations of him as if he was a curious experiment that didn’t go their way. He wants to forget their names, the times that Yuuri spent with them unknowing of the truth. He wants to forget their betrayal and their lies.

He wants to forget about Yuuko, the years they’ve grown up together, how sweet her smile is and how gentle her hands are. How kind she is, always supportive and always wanting what was best for him and for everyone. 

He wants to forget about Phichit, his best friend and his constant, the times that Phichit has picked him up and held him, how generous he is with his time and his love and his smile.

He wants to forget Minami, always so eager to learn and improve, and so, so humble. He wants to forget Leo and his steadfast support, his self-control and his passion. He wants to forget Lilia who had inspired him with her diligence and pushed him to work harder and harder. He wants to forget Emil, always patient and slow to anger, but quick to forgive.

He wants to forget them all.

Minako disappears for a moment, and JJ replaces her, a confident smirk on his lips.

“Liquid courage,” JJ tells him with a wink as he presses a shot glass into Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri takes it without thinking, and the burn hits him as it travels down his throat, hellfire liquified.

He closes his eyes, pressing the bottoms of his hands to his eyelids and groaning slightly.

"Yuuri," a voice purrs, a thick arm wrapping around his waist and fingers splaying across his stomach in a gesture that Yuuri can only describe as possessive. To his credit, Yuuri doesn't even flinch anymore.

He opens his eyes. "Lust."

He turns his head, meeting vibrant green. Yuuri knows the green is a farce, meant to lure you in and hide the depthless black underneath it, but right now, it's beautiful.

"Let's dance." Chris leans in, his breath a hot kiss over the sweat on Yuuri's neck. Yuuri shudders and turns his head until Chris’ cheeks are pressed against his.

Chris is bleeding warmth like a furnace, so hot that Yuuri feels like he's burning aside. When Chris starts to unbutton his collar, Yuuri doesn't stop him. He closes his eyes, cool air hitting the bared parts at the top of his chest.

"Come." Chris leans away and takes his hand. Yuuri follows. He doesn't know what else to do.

Chris brings him to the very center of the dance floor and presses his body against Yuuri's in one, sinuous line. Yuuri shudders and ducks his head to tuck it in under Chris’ chin, drawing out a low chuckle from the demon in front of him.

He feels Chris’ hands on his hips, and he realizes too late that he's moving. They're moving against each other, harsh grinds matching the heavy music and the beat thrumming through Yuuri's bones.

Yuuri gasps as Chris’ hands splay over his ass, thigh slotting in between Yuuri's as he puts a little pressure. It's enough for Yuuri to start riding the demon's thigh and he whines helplessly, rutting mindlessly.

Chris’ tilts his head down, lips brushing Yuuri's ear as he nips gently. "They're all watching you," Lust murmurs into his ear. "I can feel their desire. They want you, Yuuri."

Chris grabs his hips and turns him around until Yuuri's back is pressed against Chris’ chest. "Open your eyes, sweetheart."

Yuuri's eyes slide open, and his breath catches in his throat. People are looking at him, eyes dark with desire. A flash of blue from across the dance floor catches his eyes and Yuuri gasps. Not once does he stop moving against Chris, his ass pressed up tight against the swell of what Yuuri isn't naïve enough to think as his phone.

"Who do you want, Katsuki Yuuri?” Chris whispers, practically taunting into his ear. His grip is tight on Yuuri's hips and Yuuri _wants_.

"Him," Yuuri whispers back, gaze still connected with the blue that had caught his eyes from across the dance floor. "Viktor."

Yuuri has never wanted anything or anyone more in his life, and he can feel the heat brewing in the pit of his stomach. The desire and the need to feel Viktor’s body against his is all he can think about, consuming his thoughts. He wants.

Chris laughs, and he presses a hot and wet kiss on Yuuri's neck that makes him keen. "I was hoping you'd say that."

With surprisingly gentle hands, Chris goads Yuuri into turning again. He lifts Yuuri's arms and Yuuri wraps them around Chris’ neck.

They sway against each other, and Yuuri’s whole being is centered on Chris. He doesn’t know anything beyond Lust right now, fire in his veins and burning him up. He feels like he’s about to collapse under the weight of his desire.

When another set of hands wrap around his waist to dip dangerously close to his clothed cock, Yuuri freezes, mind working against the alcohol that’s making everything syrupy slow. Another body presses up against his back, pushing him closer into Chris’ chest until he's sandwiched in between them.

Whoever is behind him starts to guide his hips and Yuuri lets go with a moan, grinding back on the crotch of the man behind him.

"That's it," Chris murmurs, hot into his ear. "Be a good boy for Vitya."

Yuuri drops his head back on the shoulder of the man behind him and he blinks at Lust in confusion. Vitya? Lust leans down and presses a wet, drawn out kiss to the corner of Yuuri's mouth. Not close enough for it to truly be counted as a kiss, but enough for Yuuri to feel a sudden onslaught of desire. There’s a sudden tightening of the grip of the person behind him and it’s possessively so.

Chris pulls away, slipping back into the crowd of bodies as if he was never even there and Yuuri feels something tight inside of him relax.

The mindless want that was driving him insane dims slightly the further Chris walks away, and Yuuri is suddenly, achingly aware of the hot press of the man’s body behind him. What is he doing? For a lingering moment, the wanton beast inside of him is quelled, and Yuuri is frozen.

The man behind him turns him around. Yuuri looks up into beautiful, heavenly blue.

“Viktor,” he breathes, warmth spreading through his cheeks and on his hips where Viktor’s hands are still gripping him.

“Yuuri!” Viktor greets, a heart-shaped smile bright on his lips despite the flashing lights of the club. The lights play across his handsome features, framing his face like a halo. He’s the most beautiful thing here. “I never thought I’d see you here.”

“I… I was dragged here by friends,” Yuuri tells him, and if Viktor notices the way Yuuri hesitates on the word ‘friends’, he doesn’t mention it.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Viktor says, leaning closer towards him to be heard over the music.

“So am I,” Yuuri murmurs as he stares up in awe at the taller man. Viktor smiles at him, angelic, and out of place in this place of debauchery.

Yuuri loves him.

When Viktor brings him home, that’s all Yuuri can think about, all he can defend himself with. He’s loved the other man for months now. How can something like this be wrong? It’s a culmination of months of desire and teasing, and it seemed inevitable that it was going to end this way. How could this be anything but love?

The streets leading to Viktor’s apartment are dark, lit only by dim, flickering lamp posts. Though Yuuri walks in the shadows of darkness, he fears nothing. There’s no room for fear in his heart with Viktor pressed up against his side, firm and warm.

Yuuri worships him that night, on his knees like a benediction and a confession to the most divine man Yuuri has ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. In turn, Viktor grips his hair, looking down upon him like a god, and the feel of him in Yuuri’s mouth is heavenly, thick and filling him until his soul sings praises.

Viktor brings him to bed and lays him out. His hands are held above him by Viktor's own and he is crucified against Viktor's sheets, Viktor's very touch excruciating in its gentleness.

"I've waited so long for this," Viktor whispers, mouth hot against his neck, a searing brand that makes Yuuri feel inexplicably owned. Yuuri's eyes water, and he doesn’t know, he doesn’t understand, but he’s crying.

Viktor only smiles at him, eyes flashing before he wipes it away with his thumb.

“I know, I know,” he murmurs, “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

There’s a moment where they’re no longer Yuuri and Viktor, but YuuriandViktor, joined into one.

Yuuri falls asleep with Viktor’s arms wrapped around him.

What God has put together, no man can put asunder. 

No god has brought them together, but Yuuri is sure now. There is nothing in the world, nothing in the heavens or in the realms of hell that can separate them.

x

Once upon a time, Heaven endured a civil war. Brothers and sisters against each other, kin against kin.

The humans are pathetic, some of them had said. We are better than them. They do not deserve our Father’s love. They are imperfect and sinful, unbelievers and sinners. They kill, they steal, they disobey.

Your Pride is your downfall, the others answered. We are made to love, and so love we shall. We shall love these humans and protect them, guide them, serve them.

But they refused, and the war raged on.

It was only when they struck down the light bringer, God’s former favored, brightest of all the angels and the cause of the dissent, that the war ended. The light bringer was sent to the depths of hell, no longer to be known as a bringer of light, but instead as the Deceiver, the Liar, the Manipulator.

Those who had sided with the light bringer were given a chance.

Live among the humans. Become flesh and blood, and love and learn and rejoice and mourn.

It is only then that they will find what they are truly mean to be.

x

Yuuri wakes to the feeling of soft strokes along his cheek. His eyelids flutter open and he blinks up at the man hovering silently above him.

Viktor smiles at him gently and Yuuri’s heart flutters in his chest at the sight. He smiles back helplessly, because he doesn’t know how to do anything but, not in the face of the other man.

Yuuri is Samson in love, and Viktor? Viktor is far too beautiful, far too kind not to let into his heart and his soul.

Viktor traces the lines of his back, fingers lingering over Yuuri's shoulder blades.

"So beautiful," Viktor murmurs, reverence rolling through his lips into the skin he was kissing. Yuuri shivers, an inexplicable jolt electrifying him as Viktor's fingers curl against his back.

“My angel,” Viktor whispers as he leans over to brush his lips against Yuuri’s. Yuuri’s heart stutters in his chest at the pet name and his lips stay slack against Viktor’s in surprise and pain.

Viktor pulls away and frowns down at him. “Are you okay?” he asks, and tears brim at the corners of Yuuri’s eyes, making the unearthly vision of the man above him even blurrier.

“I’m not an angel,” he rasps out. How could he be? After everything he’s done and after everything he’s let the Sins do? The Virtues said it themselves, he’s a lost cause, and Yuuri doesn’t know if he wants to be redeemed.

Viktor chuckles, knuckles brushing the curve of Yuuri’s cheek as he wipes away the single tear that drips down. Yuuri trembles at his touch and he closes his eyes, fearful of what Viktor has to say.

“Yes,” Viktor whispers, as if it’s a secret not meant even for him to hear. He leans in closer and Yuuri holds his breath, just as Viktor presses another sweet kiss to Yuuri’s lips. It feels like a promise, a vow, a covenant. It feels like a prison.

Viktor pulls away, his eyes impossibly bright, an otherworldly blue.

“You’re better.”

 

 

 

Don't be fooled at how nice they look, or the sweet words they say. The devil doesn't come dressed in a red cape or in pointy horns. He comes as everything you ever wished, everything you ever wanted.

"Yuuri," Viktor says softly, an angelic smile on his lips. He tilts his head, hair falling down gently over his face in a silver halo.

“You owe my friends a favor."

Remember: the devil was once an angel too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A man opens the door and freezes at the sight of a group of 7 in his living room.

"Hello," Yuuri says. "Will you let us help you?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> siiigh i'm not fully satisfied w this but!!! im glad im finished. i can finally focus on bigbang now hehe. it was super interesting to read all your theories <3

**Author's Note:**

> um so far, we've got:
> 
> Wrath-Yuri P  
> Pride- JJ  
> Greed - Seung Gil  
> Envy- Georgi  
> Gluttony - Minako  
> Sloth- Guang Hong  
> Lust- Chris
> 
> ty to the discord chat for enabling me and helping me brainstorm. special mention to meg, cary, dommi <3 There is a [cracky version](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11407050/chapters/28797996) of this demon AU, if you want to read a lighter, happier version of this fic
> 
> **EDIT: forgot to mention, based of this [prompt](http://writing-prompt-s.tumblr.com/post/162311847125/a-depressed-guy-moves-into-a-haunted-house-with-7) on tumblr


End file.
